


No Man Is an Island

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Banter, F/M, Getting Together, M/M, Making Up, Mild Angst, Multi, Relationship Negotiation, Romance, argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 16:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver/Diggle/Felicity getting together, then having some issues, then working their way back again. </p><p>This is an AU where Felicity joins Oliver's team before John does, so it changes the dynamic somewhat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Man Is an Island

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sheeana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheeana/gifts).



> A treat for rare pairings fest.

“You two look good on each other,” Felicity observed.

Oliver and John looked up from the mat where they were wrestling,

“I mean,” Felicity amended, starting to blush, “You two look good together. I mean I was just admiring your form. Wrestling form. Like I appreciate the way you’re holding each other. I mean--”

“Thanks, Felicity,” Oliver said with a polite smile that revealed nothing. John concluded that these comments were par for the course and smiled likewise, and Felicity went back to her work.

John was starting to feel like he was getting to figure out how they all fit together. When he agreed to join Oliver’s mission, he didn’t realize he was getting a team – Hood and hacker both – but he was starting to like having new people in his life. People focused on the future, people who never wished that John weren’t so restless and bored with civilian life, so bitter with loss and injustice – people who wished John were more like he was before the war, and before Deadshot.

He was figuring out his spot on the team, but he still couldn’t figure out that move Oliver always did with his knee, though. Soon, John was pinned down.

He sighed and tapped the mat, and Oliver let him up. 

“Some day you’re going to have to show me that move,” John said.

“The way I learned it was to have someone do it to me about a hundred times,” Oliver said with a wink.

John nodded, almost smiled. “Is that a story I want to hear?”

Oliver’s face went sullen. He didn’t answer and got back into their starting stance.

John followed suit. Oliver was willing to let him into his secret hideout and his mission and his training, but he wasn’t ever allowed on Oliver’s island.

\--

“The thing you need to understand about Oliver is….”

For the first few days, most of John’s conversations with Felicity went like this. 

Felicity had been working with Oliver for months before John found out about his client’s secret life. Oliver had brought her in after being shot at the office where she worked; needing help, she drove him to an off-book unlicensed doctor that Oliver’s Russian contacts knew. This wasn’t too different from how Oliver had asked John to join the crew; it was after John was poisoned and Oliver had to choose between letting him die and letting him see the real Oliver.

John figured there was something significant in this: that Oliver would never open up to anyone unless lives literally depended on it.

Felicity apparently found this frustrating, too. She called Oliver on it sometimes, but John could see that she tried to accept him as he was, unless he was about to go too far off the rails. 

John occasionally had less patience than she did.

Which is how he ended up in a number of conversations with Felicity about how “the thing you need to understand about Oliver is that he can be stubborn” or that “he needs time to cool off after a disagreement” or that “he kind of shuts down sometimes” or that “he doesn’t like to talk about his feelings.” John found most of this advice pretty obvious and therefore unnecessary, until he realized that Felicity wasn’t trying to tell John to be more patient with Oliver; she was just glad to have someone to talk to about what a pain in the ass he could be.

Finally, John came in one night, knowing that Oliver wouldn’t be there, with takeout for himself and Felicity.

“Ooh, nice!” she said, “What’s the special occasion?”

“Tonight,” John said with a smile, “We’re going to have a conversation that’s not about Oliver.”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “You’re right. About time for that.” 

John grinned and took out the plastic silverware as she found some plates.

\--

“The thing you need to understand about Felicity is… she’s not like you or me,” Oliver said. His face was a bit bunched, and John could tell that Oliver really didn’t want to have this conversation. 

“She’s _kind of_ like you,” John said. “Blonde, smart, dedicated, terrible junk food habit. Stares at people’s asses when she thinks no one notices.”

Oliver’s lips turned up a little. “I mean, she’s not… I mean, she’s looking for someone she can be, you know, in a relationship with.”

John stared at him. “And we aren’t?”

“You know what I mean.”

John didn’t. He and Oliver had fallen into bed together a few times. They did the denial dance – both were guilty of it, John had to admit – always ascribing their impulse to post-mission adrenaline or occasionally tequila. Always insisting it was casual, that they were each free to date anyone else. And lately, for John, that someone else was Felicity.

“I thought you and Felicity weren’t – you know,” John said. 

“We’re not,” Oliver said quickly.

John paused. “But you want to be,” he discerned.

Oliver frowned. “This isn’t jealousy. I’m just trying to protect her.”

“From me.”

“From us,” Oliver said.

“Unless I missed something big, she isn’t dating the both of us yet.”

Oliver smirked. “Yet.”

John wanted to kick himself. “I meant… what the hell do you mean you’re protecting her?”

Oliver hesitated. “She’s only here until we find Walter. This life… it’s not what she should have.”

“That doesn’t stop you from asking her every time you need her help.”

“Fine. I’m a hypocrite. I just want things to turn out well for her. It would … affect her if she lost someone. You know? Like, the life we leave, it’s bloody and probably short. We should keep her out of it, at least in our personal life.” Oliver was looking away.

John crossed his arms. “Got it. You think this mission is going to kill you. And that’s going to hurt her. But it won’t hurt me.”

“You’ve been to war. You understand how it goes. Bad things happen, you get over it.”

“I think it’s pretty clear that we’re doing this because neither of us has ever gotten over anything,” John said testily. 

Oliver ran his hand over his own head, jaw clenched. This was well into Oliver-won’t-talk-about-it territory, but John didn’t care. 

But to John’s surprise, Oliver didn’t just walk out. He asked John, “We’re doing the mission because of that? Or we’re only together because of that? We’re together because we’re too fucked up to be with anyone else?” He looked angry, anxious.

“So we’re ‘together’ now? Wait, who exactly are you jealous of, me or Felicity?” 

Oliver shook his head and started to turn away, but John grabbed his arm. Oliver tensed, and John said, “I meant the mission. Our pasts, not getting over things – it’s the reason for our mission. It’s not why you and are I together.”

“Okay,” Oliver said after a pause. 

“We’re together because you can’t get enough of me,” John added. It actually almost got a laugh out of Oliver. John could feel the relief, the easing of tension between them.

“So, Felicity. This bothers you,” John prodded cautiously.

“It doesn’t bother me. I just worry. About what will happen to the team if you break up. Or what will happen to Felicity if we….”

“Die in the streets? Yeah, I worry too. So does she.”

“Did you tell her about me and you?” Oliver asked. 

“Yeah. She’s fine with it.”

“Really? You two are totally open?” Oliver asked.

“Only open for you. Felicity thinks I’m a good influence on you.”

“I somehow doubt that’s the reason.”

“It’s one of the reasons. She and I have talked about you, you know.”

“Yes, I’ve heard. You both think I’m stubborn, you both think I’m mule headed, you both think I’m rigid,” Oliver said with a not entirely unamused frown.

“Yes, we both have a basic grasp of reality. But I meant, we talk about inviting you to be with us.”

“….Really.”

“Yeah. Not for a night. We talk about asking you to be with us. Long term sort of thing. But Felicity thinks that we need to let you figure out what you want. Wait for you to make the first move.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “But by telling me this…. you’re sort of making the first move.”

“Yeah. I’m not as patient as she is. As you well know.”

Oliver stared at the ground for a while.

“I know what you’re thinking,” John said.

“Do you?”

“You’re thinking that you’ve wanted Felicity for a while. And that you never made a move because you wanted to protect her. You wanted to make sure she never had to do more than she should out of her feelings for you, or you wanted to make sure whatever crap you’re dealing with won’t hurt her, or you’re afraid that letting someone so close could endanger you both. You kept your distance to protect her, and it stung when I didn’t do the same. But in case you hadn’t noticed, she doesn’t need anyone to tell her what the risks are and whether she should be able to take them.”

Oliver stared at him, fear in his eyes. Hardly anything made him look that way.

But he swallowed, and covered it with a smile. “I wasn’t thinking that at all, Diggle. You want to know what I was thinking?”

“What?” John said wearily.

“That if we do this – and I’m not saying we will – I want to be in the middle.”

John didn’t quite suppress a smile. “You’ll have to ask the lady,” he said.

Oliver nodded.

Later that night, they did ask her. 

She said yes.

\--

 

It’s bad.

John knows, it’s bad. 

He’s been stabbed in the shoulder and Felicity’s on crutches, and when they get back to headquarters, Oliver says nothing. 

The three of them have been together for four months, but they hadn’t yet had a night like this.

A night when all three of them almost died. A night when Oliver felt like a failure and a danger to them. A night when John had to kill two people and Felicity had to whale a drug dealer on the skull to get away and leave not knowing whether he was wounded or dead. 

Felicity and John glance at each other, and he can see that she thinks Oliver needs his space. He helps her onto the couch and they sit there with icepacks and bottled water and say hardly anything. Oliver heads out, not telling them why, and Felicity shakes her head when John considers following him.

“We’ll be okay,” she finally says, softly.

John nods, and he’s not sure either of them are convincing each other.

Oliver doesn’t come back that night, and so it’s just the two of them in their bed. She refuses painkillers, and so she keeps waking up in the middle of the night. John can’t sleep at all, so he notices every time.

In the morning, Oliver shows up at headquarters and pretends everything is fine. But over the next week, he starts to track down the drug ring without their help. It’s sloppy, and Felicity and John both notice.

Yet another week goes by, and John’s had enough. He tells Oliver he’s an idiot, that he’s going to killed, that he needs to get his head on straight if he wants to achieve his mission.

Oliver responds by saying that he will no longer need either of them for Hood-related business. Or anything else. His words are cold and calm and downright dismissive.

John says nothing, stares, enraged, betrayed. 

Felicity gets up from her desk, says, “Let’s go,” and gives Oliver a pointed look as they walk out. 

Felicity moves into John’s apartment. She complains about climbing the stairs but never about anything else.

\--

Two months pass. Felicity and John are getting along well. There are small adjustments to be made, the kind every couple has to deal with -- toothpaste and music and laundry and annoying habits that are only sometimes endearing.

John doesn’t speak to Oliver the entire time. He assumes Felicity doesn’t either, until breakfast one morning.

“I’ve been visiting Oliver,” Felicity announced as she poured herself a glass of juice. 

“Why?” John said.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know why.”

John sighed. “I’m not going to beg him to come back.”

“But if he asked us to let him come back, would you say yes?”

“I don’t know. Would things be different?” John pretended to concentrate on his coffee.

“He needs us, John.”

“He obviously doesn’t.”

“You were right about his mother. He just found out last night.”

John put down his cup.

Felicity continued, “He’s pretty lost right now.” She buttered her toast, and pretended to not know exactly what she was doing. _Oliver needs you desperately. Go ahead and try to turn your back on him._

“Fine. I’ll talk to him tonight. You coming?”

“No. Tonight’s for the two of you. I already forgave him for being a dumbass,” Felicity said, taking a bite from the corner of her toast.

“A dumbass who dropped us when it got tough.”

“A dumbass who would rather be tortured for days than feel vulnerable. A dumbass who thinks he needs to save us from himself.”

“Just because he’s sorry, doesn’t mean it won’t happen again,” John pointed out.

“We can talk about that with him. Maybe when his whole world hasn’t just been shot to hell.”

John nodded. “We’re back to where we started, you realize. ‘The thing you have to understand about Oliver is….’”

Felicity took a sip of orange juice and set it down. “The thing you have to understand about Oliver is that he’s hurting and you can make it better. And the thing you have to understand about yourself is that you miss him like hell and you’re not fooling anyone by acting otherwise.”

John sighed. He grumbled, “The thing you have to understand about Felicity is that she always has to win the argument.”

“Not always,” she smiled. “Just when I’m totally right. By the way, I kind of hinted that I wouldn’t tell you about him. So do you think you can convince Oliver that you just kind of figured it out on your own?”

“Sure. Oliver tells you that he’s just gotten devastating news and the next day, by pure coincidence, I show up with an olive branch. He’s definitely going to buy that.”

She shrugged. “Fine. Tell him everything. But also tell him to come home.” 

\--

That night, they don’t talk about what Oliver discovered.

They don’t talk about how they broke up. They don’t talk about whether Felicity and John are going to re-join Oliver’s mission.

They, for once, don’t talk about the mission at all.

They kiss, slowly, cautiously, at first. Then urgently.

They take off shirts, then pants. Scars bared.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver says, exactly once.

“We’ll be okay,” John says, kissing his shoulder.

Felicity cradles Oliver’s head on her breast and promises, “We need you as much as you need us.”

For a moment, Oliver looks like he is about to break. 

But then he reaches out. Brings both of them closer.

Hands, lips, soft but frantic. Soft sheets under them, they don’t even bother to turn the lights on. They grope and kiss and moan, they use their hands on one other so they don’t have to stop, so they can keep kissing and leaning on one another, skin to skin, getting their bodies as close as they can, a density of need, writhing and desperate to forget and forgive.

When they are done, they lie there for a long time, catching their breath, clinging tight.

Finally, Felicity sits up and turns on the lamp on the side table. She stares down at the two men, smiling. 

“What is it?” John asks. Oliver’s head is leaning on his shoulder, their legs are entangled still. 

“She’s smug about being good in bed,” Oliver jokes.

“No,” she says, “I just wanted to appreciate the moment. Like I’ve always said, you two look good on each other.”


End file.
